Broken
by jadenanne7
Summary: When Tom leaves Lizzie for another woman, who will be there to pick up the pieces? Is she even broken?
1. Chapter 1

So I've been thinking about this story for a while and finally figured out what I wanted to do with it. This first chapter is really just a teaser, and I apologize in advance for the length. It is also Red-free… something that I promise I'll make up for in later chapters, lol.

Also, this does not go along with 'Monsters'.

Please, while you're reading and reviewing… keep in mind that I am a poor girl and I own nothing. Much love!

What, exactly, is the appropriate response when your husband tells you he's leaving you for another woman? Elizabeth Keen sat at her dining room table for hours contemplating what she should have said when Tom unceremoniously informed her that he had found someone else and was moving on with his life without her. Apparently, she was holding him back. Elizabeth should have been heartbroken, but all she could really think about was how this poor girl came about the name Jolene.

_Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, I'm begging of you please, don't take my man…_

She was obviously born to be a home wrecker. The girl really couldn't help herself. It was meant to be.

As the night dragged on, Elizabeth sat calmly and waited for the tears to come. They didn't. What was there to cry over? Their marriage had ended the day the pulled that damn box out from under the floorboards. All of the unwavering trust and devotion that she had placed in her husband was just gone, and there was nothing he could do to earn it back. Maybe Jolene had done Elizabeth a favor. It wasn't healthy to drag a dead relationship around like a security blanket.

When the clock struck twelve, Elizabeth stood up from the table and started to clear away the untouched romantic dinner that she had so hopefully prepared. (Okay, she had it delivered from Casadore's downtown, but it was the thought that counted, right?) She briefly considered tossing back the two glasses of white wine, but poured them down the sink instead. She wouldn't drown her sorrows. She liked to think she was better than that. After everything was nice and tidy again, she made her way to her bedroom, shedding her deep red cocktail dress as she went. Her hair was harder to deal with. The little pins didn't want to release her hair from the elegant French twist that had taken half an hour to fix. A dozen pins littered her nightstand when she was done. Tom would have hated that. She didn't bother to clean them up.

Not wanting to trip over her impossibly high heels the next morning, Elizabeth retrieved them from the floor and opened her closet door to toss them in, only to freeze mid-toss. Aside from the few things that Elizabeth had hanging up and her shoes on the floor, the closet was practically empty. Tom's things were gone. She rushed to the dresser and threw open drawer after drawer. His socks… his underwear… the pictures of his parents that he refused to put up in the house… they were all gone. He had probably been sneaking things out for weeks. Elizabeth was truly alone.

"Well happy Valentine's Day to you too, Tom."


	2. Chapter 2

I've finally decided what direction I want this fic to take. And it is Lizzington… I thought I had pressed on both E. Keen and R. Reddington but apparently I only pressed E. Keen. Oops. Lol.

I own nothing at all.

Please read and review! Much love!

Things were quiet at work the next day, and Elizabeth was more than grateful. Normally, she found paperwork tedious, and, more often than not, unnecessary. But on this day, she found it to be a great distraction. Her co-workers seemed to sense her mood, and left her to herself. Thank God for little favors.

As she signed her name over and over on a million little dotted lines, she allowed her thoughts to wander. Not to Tom, but to the other frustrating man in her life. Red had not called in over two weeks. Cooper and Ressler were convinced that he was toying with the FBI, enjoying making them wait with bated breath for him to make contact, but Elizabeth suspected different. Her personal life goes up in flames and Red was nowhere to be found? Highly unlikely. He was sitting back and enjoying something, alright. Elizabeth wondered how long it would take for him to realize that Tom had finally ditched her, and how long it would take for him to say 'I told you so'. As it turned out, it didn't take long.

Elizabeth was halfway home when she got the call. Nick's Pizza. 'Wonder what this could be about.' Elizabeth thought sarcastically. She flipped open her phone and greeted Red shortly, not bothering to mask the frustration in her voice.

"Hello?"

"Lizzie! How wonderful to hear your voice! Did you miss me?"

"Like I miss the stomach flu I had last week."

Okay… so she might have gone a little overboard there. Lucky for her, Red didn't seem to care.

"You're witty when you're cranky. Why are you cranky, by the way? You aren't still sick, are you? Or maybe you haven't had your nap out."

He could be such a bastard, but then again, what could she expect when she was acting like a bitch?

"Look… I'm sorry. I've just been in a mood today."

She had hoped he would drop it. No such luck.

"Does your foul mood have anything to do with the fact that Tom never came home last night?"

Elizabeth yanked the steering wheel sharply to the right and pulled into the nearest parking lot, slamming on the brakes.

"I thought I made it perfectly clear that I don't appreciate you staking out my house."

"And I thought I made it clear that I don't care. Now that that's all cleared up, let's get back to what we were discussing. What were we discussing, again? Oh yes… Tom. Where was he last night? Has Tommy been a naughty boy?"

Elizabeth was incensed, and more than a little embarrassed. Why did he have to know everything?

"It's really none of your business."

"I'm making it my business."

Elizabeth exhaled loudly into the phone. She had to give Red some sort of explanation or he would just keep on asking.

"If you must know, Tom and I had a fight. Some not-so-nice words were exchanged and he left."

There. Not exactly the truth, but generally believable. Red was aware that she and Tom hadn't exactly been in sync lately, so a fight was entirely feasible.

"I'm sorry Lizzie."

The sincerity in his voice almost made her feel bad for lying, but it didn't stop her from telling another one.

"What for? Couples fight… it's all part of being married. Tom and I are going to work it out."

"So he's coming home tonight, then?"

Damn him.

"I haven't heard from him, but yes, I'm sure he'll be there. He's coming home."

Okay… even she knew she sounded desperate and pathetic. She could only imagine what she sounded like to Red. He chuckled warmly and she grimaced.

"As always, I am astounded by how much faith you place in that moron. Fine, Lizzie, go home and you two have your little talk. And if you need to talk after your little talk, you have my number."

He could be such a sweet bastard.

"Thanks, Red."

"You're welcome, Sweetheart."

Elizabeth hung up her phone, and slowly drove out of the parking lot to finish the trek home. On the way, her thoughts were consumed with what she was coming home to. Every room in that house reminded her of Tom and the fact that she had failed at keeping her marriage alive. The bedroom was big and empty and still decorated the way Tom had wanted it. It was all blues and greys and not at all inviting. And the closet was definitely designed for a man, with two bars running diagonally across the wall for shirts and pants, with almost no place for shoes. That closet needed shelves. In fact, the whole bedroom needed a total re-do. Why not the whole house? The only room in that house that really had her mark on it was the dining room, and she couldn't imagine what she had been thinking. Greens and oranges. She knew Tom had hated it. Maybe she was subconsciously trying to piss him off. Yes… she would remodel that horrible house. Starting with that damn dining room.


	3. Chapter 3

I own nothing; I will never own anything, blah, blah, blah. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

It was Elizabeth's first weekend off in ages, and it said a lot about her state of mind that she was willing to spend it painting her dining room. She had been sure that she would change her mind at the last minute and spend that weekend lounging around in front of the television with Hudson, but when Saturday rolled around she found herself more determined than ever to commence with the change in her life.

The trip to the Home Depot had been almost comical. It wasn't a place that she frequented, so quite a bit of help was necessary to get her what she needed. She grabbed the first available associate, a boy that couldn't have been more than seventeen, and followed him around the store for half an hour, nodding as he explained what all of the brushes and tools he was throwing into her cart were for. He led her to the paint where he made a few helpful suggestions of beiges and soft yellows. Elizabeth felt more surprised than the boy looked when she grabbed a deep red swatch and asked him to help her find that color.

Preparing to paint the dining room turned out to be a real pain in the ass. The dining room table was heavier than it looked, but Elizabeth managed to haul it into the living room. It took a good half hour before the tarp was laid and the edges of the wall were taped, and she was already exhausted. The actual painting wasn't so bad. She had thrown on a pair of black yoga pants and a white t-shirt and thrown her hair up into a ponytail, so she wasn't worried about dirtying herself up, which ended up being a good thing because she had put a big smudge of red paint on her shirt within the first five minutes. She had expected Hudson to be a problem, but he was being a perfect angel, content to lay on the tarp and watch her work.

It wasn't until Elizabeth was in the middle of the first wall that the nauseous feeling hit her. Dizziness followed soon after, and she slowly lowered herself to the floor. She wondered briefly if she wasn't quite over the stomach flu, but that wasn't possible. It was probably the pain fumes anyway. The nauseous feeling was almost completely gone when she heard the doorbell ring. She moved slowly toward the front door, not wanting to chance a relapse, and eased it open.

"Lizzie! You look… pale."

Just what she needed. Raymond Reddington and an armful of… Chinese… The nausea returned full force and she barely made it to the toilet before throwing that morning's breakfast up into it. She hung her head over the porcelain and cringed when she heard the water running in the sink. She wanted so badly to tell Red to go away, but the cold, damp cloth that he placed at the back of her neck felt so good that she couldn't bring herself to protest.

"You know… you really should open a window or two before you paint a room. I could smell the fumes as soon as you opened the door. Makes me feel a little light-headed myself. Here, you get cleaned up and I'll start airing this place out."

He placed the cloth in her hand and left her to herself. How embarrassing. She didn't have the good sense to crack a window and she had tossed her cookies in front of Red. It was shaping up to be a marvelous Saturday.

It was tempting to just sit on the bathroom floor until the end of time, but Elizabeth finally forced herself to get up and face Red like a big girl. When she reached the dining room she was surprised to see that he had shed his jacket and vest and was rolling up the sleeves of his pristine white shirt.

"Interesting choice of color for a dining room. I'm sensing an identity crisis, Lizzie. Should I be worried?"

Raymond Reddington was stripping in her dining room. If anything, SHE was the one who needed to be worried.

"What are you doing here, Red? You NEVER come to my house."

Red's expression was smug for a moment before he schooled it back to a more innocent one.

"Well I was just in the neighborhood when I passed by this lovely little Chinese place and immediately thought of you. Normally I wouldn't dream of setting foot here, but since Tom hasn't been home in over a week, I figured it was safe."

So that was what he wanted.

"Well you obviously know what's happened. So help me… if you're here to gloat…"

"Actually, I don't know what happened. I was trying to give you time to work out whatever you needed to work out, but my patience is running thin."

HIS patience was running thin?

"And what made you think that I would just tell you something that, quite frankly, is none of your business?"

"Because… who else do you have to talk to?"

That was true. Hurtful, but true. She was too embarrassed to call any of the few friends she did have. Besides, most of them were Tom's friends first. They would probably just take his side. She wondered what he was telling people about the split. She looked down at her wedding rings and considered chucking them out the window. After all, what did she need them for? They were nothing but a constant reminder of the biggest failure of her life. But… they did keep the questions at bay at work. When she looked back up, she saw that Red had moved to stand in front of her, and was also staring at her rings.

"I apologize… that was out of line."

"No. You're right. You're always right."

That brought a small smile to Red's face.

"That may be so, but maybe sometimes I should just keep it to myself."

Like that would ever happen.

"I should have listened to you from the beginning. Tom really wasn't who I thought he was."

Whew. It was the first time that she had admitted that out loud, and it sounded strange to her ears. Red, however, didn't seem to think it was so strange. He seemed relieved somehow… relaxed, even. She hadn't even realized that Red had been tense. He sat down on her dining room floor and patted the space beside him. Alright, then. She moved to sit beside him and Hudson moved to sit beside her. What a picture they must have made…

"So what did St. Thomas do that made you see the light?"

Saint Thomas. She would have to remember that one.

"He dumped me. For another woman. On Valentine's Day."

Red grimaced in sympathy.

"Oh Lizzie… I'm so sorry. What an ass. If it makes you feel any better, I didn't have a great Valentine's Day either."

"Really?"

"Yeah… Dembe's great and all, but he's not much of a cuddler."

Elizabeth giggled and bumped his shoulder.

"And yet, it still didn't suck as bad as mine."

"Was that all it was? Him cheating on you?"

Was that all it was? Was he serious?

"Isn't that enough?"

Red shrugged.

"For some people. What's important to you may not be as important to others. Always remember that, Lizzie. As for Tom, now that you aren't as convinced of his infallibility, are you willing to consider that maybe he's capable of more than just infidelity? Maybe something much worse? Maybe even murder?"

Elizabeth had already considered it, on numerous occasions. Even before Tom left, she would lie in bed at night and pore over the Angel Station case in her mind. She knew she was missing something, but was never able to put her finger on what… And then there was the box. She had convinced herself for so long that Red had planted the evidence in her house, but even she knew that it didn't make sense. Those photos on the passports… they weren't candids. They were posed. Tom had posed for them. Elizabeth tucked her knee up under her chin and rested her head on it.

"I know he's guilty of something… but I don't know what."

Red nodded slightly then started to get to his feet. Elizabeth felt herself reach out to stop him.

"Could _you _have dealt with it? It wasn't always going to be like that. I wasn't always going to be home late. I wasn't always going to have to work weekends and drop everything whenever the FBI called. I promised and I meant it… it wasn't always going to be like that. Could you have stuck it out?"

Instead of dropping back down beside her, Red dropped to one knee in front of her. His hand found hers and gripped it tightly.

"I would have dealt with anything and everything you could have thrown at me. Being with you was an honor and a privilege that Tom didn't deserve. So yes… for you, I could have stuck it out. Lunch?"

"What?"

"I did bring lunch, and if you're feeling better I think we should eat it."

"Umm… yeah… sure. I'm sure I could hold something down by now."

Red pulled her to her feet and steered her to the kitchen. While she normally would have pulled away, she was glad he kept his hand on her back. It was the only thing keeping her on balance. However mysterious her husband may have been, he was an open book compared to Red. There were times when she felt like she was being used, but there were other times when she felt just as important to Red as he claimed she was. She wished she knew which feeling to trust, and there was a possibility that she would never find out for sure what was real and what was complete bull.

They ate in companionable silence, and Elizabeth was pleased that she was able to keep food down. It was embarrassing enough to have vomited in front of Red once, but twice would have been unbearable. When they finished their food, Red began to straighten up the kitchen, whistling a tune she couldn't place. She took Hudson outside while he finished up, and when she returned she found him propped up against her counter, waiting.

"Thanks for lunch… I really appreciate it."

Well… what else was she supposed to say?

"You're very welcome. Besides… now you owe me a meal. I like it when people owe me things."

Red shrugged as if he hadn't just said the most self-centered thing Elizabeth had ever heard.

"Well aren't you sweet?"

Red made a face like he was actually considering her sarcastic question, then he nodded.

"Sweet pretty much sums me up."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes as Red made his way toward the dining room.

"What are you doing?"

"Painting. I want you to owe me big."


	4. Chapter 4

Please read and review! Thanks a bunch!

I own nothing.

Elizabeth was bored. She was bored at work, she was bored at home, and it was about to drive her insane. She had painted three rooms in her house already, there was nothing but paperwork at work, and Red hadn't called in two weeks. She had the feeling that he was giving her time to get back on her feet, but it was completely unnecessary. She didn't need time. She needed a distraction.

She thought back to the few friends she had before all this had started. Maybe she should call one of them and get together. It was better than nothing. She flipped through her address book. Brad and Mary were going through a divorce of their own, so that left them out. Sarah Thompson was a teacher at Tom's school. No dice. Carrie Parker…. Carrie was her best friend all through college, but they had lost touch when Elizabeth started Quantico. It would be nice to see her again, and Carrie was anything but boring. Elizabeth reached for her phone and dialed the number she used to know by heart. It only rang once.

"Hello?"

"Hey Carrie? Carrie… It's Liz."

There was a moment of silence, and Elizabeth wondered if she was about to get hung up on. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Liz… Oh my gosh! Liz! I can't believe it's you! I haven't heard from you in years!"

"I know. I'm sorry about that. It's just…"

"Don't worry about it. You're an FBI agent now. I know you're busy."

How guilty could Elizabeth feel? Carrie was such a good friend and Elizabeth had just blown her off. And for what? Tom? Well that wouldn't be a problem anymore.

"I was just wondering if you were free Friday night. I thought we could do dinner and a movie. I've missed you."

"That would be so great! I've missed you too, Liz. I'm so glad you called."

Elizabeth smiled to herself.

"Me too."

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Friday dragged on slowly for Elizabeth. When 5p.m. rolled around she practically flew back to her house. She rummaged through her closet until she found something appropriate that didn't make her look like an FBI agent. According to Red, all law enforcement officers had a certain look about them, and Elizabeth wanted to avoid that. She eventually settled on a pair of low-rise jeans and a dark blue wrap-around blouse that showed off her back. Elizabeth was fond of showing off her back. She curled her hair into loose curls and swept them up so that they framed her face. One pair of pumps and some make-up later her outfit was complete, and she definitely didn't look like an agent.

She met Carrie at the restaurant promptly at six, and immediately had to rescue her from an over-zealous admirer at the bar. It felt just like old times. Men had always chased after the blonde, voluptuous Carrie, and more than once Elizabeth had to step in and stop her from going home with someone who was less than desirable. Carrie's jerk radar didn't always work the way it should. But apparently, neither did Elizabeth's.

They finally got seated and commenced with playing twenty questions. Carrie asked about Elizabeth's job and gave her the generic answer, that she was an FBI profiler, and that is was nothing more than a mountain of paperwork. Carrie, on the other hand, had gone totally bohemian and had turned to teaching. Not school, oh no. Anything but. She taught salsa dancing on Tuesday and Thursday nights, piano on Mondays, and on Wednesdays and Fridays she taught an art class downtown. Where were all these amazing talents when they were in college?

"I've done the whole 9-5 thing, and it just wasn't for me. I finally said 'enough', and threw away all of my inhibitions. I've honestly never been happier."

Good. At least one of them was.

"By the way, speaking of people who are extremely happy, how's Tom?"

And there it was… the part of the night Elizabeth had been dreading. She knew she wasn't going to get away with just not mentioning her husband, but she had kinda hoped…

"Actually, I have no idea. Tom and I are separated."

Carrie's jaw dropped.

"Liz! Oh my God! What happened? You two were so happy… I just don't understand."

"Well… I was working –a lot- and Tom decided he couldn't take it anymore. He left me for another woman."

Elizabeth could feel her face flushing. Having to admit failure to Carrie was never something she liked to do.

"Oh honey… what a jerk! I just never would have thought that about Tom. But then again, I guess you really never know about people, do you?"

Elizabeth grimaced.

"No… I guess you don't."

The rest of the dinner turned out to be very pleasant. Carrie was just as fun as Elizabeth remembered her to be. They lost all track of time and barely made it to the theater for the late show. As they walked through the front door, Elizabeth's nostrils were accosted by the smell of burnt popcorn.

"Ugh. That is the nastiest smell!"

Carrie looked at her like she was crazy.

"What's nasty?"

"That rancid popcorn smell. Maybe one of the popcorn makers shorted out."

Carrie shrugged.

"If you say so."

The smell wasn't nearly as bad inside the theater, so Elizabeth watched the movie in peace, and by the time they exited the theater, the smell was almost gone. She and Carrie parted ways after the movie, with promises to get together often. It was a promise that Elizabeth intended to keep. It was nice to have a friend.

As soon as she made it to her car, the phone rang. Nick's Pizza.

"Keen speaking."

"Don't you mean Scott?"

"Soon."

Red chuckled, and she could hear the rustling of papers on the other end of the line.

"How do you feel about coming to see me tomorrow? I'm up at the hotel and I've got something you might be interested in."

"I'm actually out and about right now…"

Elizabeth was feeling adventurous so… what the hell.

"Excellent. I'm glad that you're getting out of the house, Lizzie. It's not healthy to sit at home and mope."

"I was never moping. I was contemplating life. So… what do you have for me?"

She started her car but didn't move from her spot, wanting to hear what Red had to say.

"The next name on the blacklist."

Finally. A rush of adrenaline coursed through her veins. She was more than ready.

"Who is it?"

There was a long pause before Red finally spoke.

"Thomas Vincent Keen."


	5. Chapter 5

I know it's been a while on this one, but I'm going to do better… I promise!

Please read and review!

It was never good to be the girl meeting the dangerous man in the hotel room in the middle of the night, but here it was, half-past midnight, and Elizabeth was knocking on Raymond Reddington's hotel room door. If he had information on Tom, Elizabeth wanted to know about it. Red answered the door still dressed in slacks and a dress shirt, but his sleeves were rolled up and he was sans tie. Usually at this point, Elizabeth was already in her night clothes.

"Lizzie! So glad to see you out and about! Did I pull you away from something?"

He eyed her clothes approvingly, and for a moment Elizabeth thought he was going to ask her to do a spin.

"No… I was headed home from dinner and a movie with a friend from college."

"A male friend?"

He thought she was on a date. The question didn't surprise her, but the possessive tone of his voice did.

"And what if it was?"

Red's eyes glinted dangerously.

"I'm just worried about your reputation. Going out on dates when you're not even divorced yet? People might begin to question your ethics."

If he was trying to make her angry, it was working.

"Not that it's any of your business, but it was my friend Carrie. I needed a friend, so I called her up."

"You could have called me."

Elizabeth felt herself stroke her scar. She couldn't help it. Red knew which buttons to push, and for some reason, he felt like pushing them all.

"Yeah. Sure. Are you going to let me in?"

Red stood aside and waved her in. Elizabeth glanced around the hotel room, looking for Red's usual companion.

"Where's Dembe?"

"In the adjoining room. He didn't want to be here when you saw this."

Elizabeth followed his eyes to the large bed that encompassed a good portion of the room. What did one man need all that room for? She stepped closer and realized that the bed was covered with…well… evidence.

"I thought you'd want a close look at what I had, so I went ahead and organized everything for you."

Elizabeth picked up a pile of photos and flipped through them, dropping them to the floor one by one. There were at least a dozen photos of Tom and Gina in which you could definitely tell that they were very close. Lovely. There were more photos from the Angel Station Hotel, including one that caught Tom discreetly aiming his gun at Victor. This would possibly be the photo that put him behind bars. There were others, including ones of him with Jolene Parker… the woman Tom had ultimately left her for. Only the ones with Jolene weren't… intimate. It was as if they were business partners, not lovers, which made Elizabeth wonder what they were really doing together.

"Eye-opening, isn't it? And the photos are just the beginning."

Red took the last photo from her hand and dropped it to the floor with the others. He pushed her into a seated position on the bed and picked up a pile of papers.

"Phone records."

Elizabeth tried to shake off the daze she was in.

"The FBI has gone over and over his phone records. They found nothing."

Red smiled indulgently, as if he were placating a tired child.

"Burner cells, Lizzie, over a dozen of them."

"How did you…"

"I have ways. There is a way around anything, Lizzie. You only have to look for it."

Elizabeth didn't bother to look at the records. She already knew he was telling the truth. Red sat beside her on the bed and patted her knee.

"There were payments made to an account overseas in your husband's name. His real name. Thomas Vincent Keen doesn't exist. Peter Maxwell, however, does."

Elizabeth laughed. It was a laced with bitterness and she hated herself for it.

"Tom hates the name Peter. I suggested it for the baby… It was a boy, you know? The baby we were going to adopt the last time? It was a boy. He said that Peter was the name of a man who would sit behind a desk for the rest of his life, and that he didn't want that for our son."

Red put his arm around her and she didn't shrug it off. She liked the solid weight on her shoulder.

"What a bastard. Out of curiosity, what were you going to name your son?"

Elizabeth sighed.

"We never decided on a name. I was leaning towards Samuel. Had to honor Dad somehow."

"Samuel's a good name. Sturdy. That's exactly what Sam was. He was sturdy and dependable. You needed that, Lizzie. More than you know."

There was no point in asking him why, so she didn't bother.

"I was going to let him walk away. I was so good… I never wanted to cause any trouble. I won't cause any trouble."

Red's grip on her shoulder tightened.

"You're in shock. You don't know what you're saying."

"I do. You can't do this, Red. You can't send the FBI after him. He'll go away on his own. Whoever wanted him to keep close to me obviously wants him to back off. Maybe his job is done."

Red turned her sharply to face him.

"I'm not asking for your permission, Lizzie. Tom Keen must pay for what he's done to you. He must pay. If I thought you wouldn't hate me for it I would put a bullet in his head, but unfortunately that's not an option. He needs to at least be behind bars for the rest of his pathetic life."

Elizabeth didn't want to say it, but it would have been much easier on her to just let Red put a bullet in Tom's head.

"I can't…"

"I'm not asking you to do anything but give Harold Cooper your husband's name. And I promise you, Lizzie, if you don't, I will. This is happening with or without your cooperation, though it would be easier with it."

Red ran a reassuring hand up and down her back even as he was telling her that she had no control over what happened to her own husband. Or was he even her husband? Could she even be married to a man that legally didn't exist? Elizabeth was practically shaking with the realization that her entire married life had been a lie. She felt Red's hand leave her back and with mild interest as Red cleared the bed of all the incriminating evidence that he would present to Harold Cooper. He turned the covers down and reached for her hand. She crawled to the other side of the huge bed and allowed him to remove her shoes. It was strangely intimate, the way he cradled her foot after he slid off the pump, like it was a fragile thing.

"You'll sleep here tonight. Your head will be clearer in the morning and I'll feel better about you driving. Let me get you a shirt."

He wandered over to the dresser and pulled open a drawer, extracting a white button-up shirt.

"I know it's not exactly your size, but it will be more comfortable than jeans."

Elizabeth didn't know why she wasn't trying to go home. Maybe it was because she was tired. Maybe it was because Red's voice was so deep and lulling. Or maybe she just wanted to stay, period. Red put the shirt in her hand and stared at her until she spoke.

"Thank you. Aren't you going to turn around?"

"If I must."

Elizabeth smiled.

"You must."

Red sighed.

"I had to try."

He turned and walked toward the adjacent sitting room, leaving her to change into the shirt. He continued to talk to her as he walked, as if she were still standing right in front of him.

"I'll camp out on the couch tonight. I've got some reading to catch up on anyway."

Elizabeth finished buttoning the shirt and cleared her throat.

"Dressed."

Red turned and laughed, striding back into the bedroom.

"Really, Lizzie? As arousing as your neck is, I think I'll be able to control myself if you loosened a couple of buttons."

He reached up and unbuttoned the top four buttons of her shirt.

"There. That's better. Now you can breathe."

Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat. His warm hands brushed her collarbone and it was almost too much. She was no longer worried about him controlling himself. She was just undone enough to…

"Thank you, again. Goodnight, Red."

He wanted to say something. She knew he wanted to say something. Instead he smiled and grabbed her hand, leading her to the bed. He turned down the covers even further, and pushed her down into the bed. He leaned in, and Elizabeth prepared herself for whatever he was going to do. She found herself disappointed when he pulled the covers up over her shoulders and swept the hair away from her face. He frowned, frustrated by the pins in her hair. One by one he removed them, and tossed them on the bedside table. Elizabeth loved the fluidity of the motion.

"Goodnight, Lizzie. Sleep well."

He flipped the light switch and retreated to the couch to read under the lamp. Elizabeth closed her eyes, only to open them again to look at Red. His face was set in a look of pure concentration as he flipped through the papers on his lap. It was a long time before he finally turned his eyes to her again. He smiled patiently and shook his head.

"Sleep, Lizzie."

Elizabeth smiled back and continued to watch him. The last thing she saw before drifting off to sleep was his silhouette in the lamp light.


	6. Chapter 6

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"How strange is it to you that he kept his cover job? I don't think his assignment was over… I think it was all apart of Tom's plan… whatever that was."

Red and Elizabeth sat in his Mercedes in a parking lot across from the elementary school where Tom worked as an English teacher. Today was the day that the FBI was going to pick him up, and Elizabeth wasn't allowed to be anywhere near the action. Red, however, had decided that she deserved a show after all that Tom had put her through, and brought her close enough that she could see his face as they were marching him out in handcuffs. She was distracted and anxious, even though Red was actively trying to keep a conversation going.

"I don't know. I don't know what he's up to. All I know is that I want him behind bars and out of my life for good."

Red grinned.

"Well that's the spirit."

Of course he could smile about it. He had wanted Tom to go away from the beginning, and now he was getting what he wanted. Elizabeth wanted to be bitter about that fact, but she couldn't. Red was only trying to protect her, and as much as she thought she could take care of herself, she never saw this coming.

A SWAT team inched inside the building on Ressler's signal, and Elizabeth wondered how many other people were watching these men enter the building, wondering what the hell was going on. Perhaps Tom's bosses were watching the school too. Perhaps they had time to tip him off before the team made it to his room. Perhaps it was too late…

Elizabeth waited for the gunshots, for the panic and hysteria that came with an FBI invasion, but there was nothing. The doors swung open and out came Tom, head held high, escorted by FBI and SWAT agents.

"Wow. I expected a struggle. You've got to hand it to him, Lizzie. He's doing a very good job at saving face."

Elizabeth ignored Red's observations and kept her eyes focused on Tom. For a brief moment he caught sight of her in the parking lot and she swore she saw him smile before he was ushered into the waiting FBI van.

"Take me to the blacksite."

"Lizzie…"

"Take me. Please. I have to know what's going on… I can't just sit here and wait. I'll go crazy."

Red sighed in resignation and pulled out of the parking lot. They trailed the van at a good distance, wanting Tom to be settled in an interrogation room before they made their entrance. Elizabeth didn't want to look him in the eye, and she certainly didn't want to talk to him.

Red led the way past security and into the blacksite, knowing full well that while they may have stopped Elizabeth, no one would dare try to stop him. They were met by Cooper, who held his hands up apologetically.

"I'm sorry Agent Keen; you know you are not allowed back there."

Red snorted.

"Agent Keen may do whatever she damn well pleases. She just wants to see what the man has to say about what he's done. She deserves that much."

"Please, Agent Cooper. I'm not going to do anything stupid. In fact, here's my gun. Take it. I just want to know what's going on. That's all."

Elizabeth held her gun out to Agent Cooper, relieved when he took it and waved her on into the viewing room that allowed them to see the interrogation. Meera and Ressler were in with Tom, and seemed to be focused on one thing… finding out who hired him.

"I'm not going to tell you who I'm working for, so you may as well just give up. If I were you, I would be focused on Liz instead of me."

Ressler's eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean?"

Tom smiled.

"I mean she's in danger, moron. As long as I was around, she was safe. I was the one keeping an eye on her, and making sure everything went according to plan. Now that I've been publically compromised, the game has changed. Lizzie is no longer safe. I promise you, I was the least of her worries."

Meera frowned and sat across from Tom.

"I'm afraid we still don't understand what you mean."

"Well allow me to enlighten you. I was a buffer. Do you actually think that my bosses were the only ones who wanted whatever Liz has? Think again. I was the one that kept all of those other people away. Now, thanks to you, it's open season on Elizabeth Keen."

Elizabeth's head swam. Was he just playing a game, or was she really in that much trouble? The room seemed to spin, so she grabbed on to whoever was nearest to her, and that happened to be Red. He gripped her shoulders firmly and turned her away from the two-way mirror.

"No one is going to hurt you, Lizzie. I promise. I'll make a few calls and put a security detail on you twenty-four…"

His voice faded out like she was listening from under water. Her legs shook beneath her, and then finally gave way. The last thing she heard before she blacked out was Red calling her name.

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Elizabeth woke up to find that she had been laid out on a table in an unused room in the blacksite. A warm hand covered her own, and she heard voices raised in argument.

"She shouldn't have been in there in the first place!"

"Oh get over yourself, Donald. You would have wanted to know too."

Elizabeth opened her eyes and tugged on the hand holding hers. Red looked down and smiled softly at her.

"Hello, Lizzie. Have a good nap?"

She struggled to sit up and Red was only too glad to help her.

"Did I pass out?"

"Yes."

The room spun again for a moment, but Elizabeth regained her bearings and remained upright. Ressler paced the floor in front of her.

"This is why you shouldn't be allowed near this case. You're too emotionally involved."

"Emotions had nothing to do with it. Lizzie hasn't been feeling well since her little bout with the stomach flu. She just got a little over-heated in this sauna you call a work space. You really need to invest in an air conditioner."

Elizabeth wanted to tell them that she could take care of herself, but she was just too tired to start that argument. Instead, she tugged on Red's hand again.

"Take me home. I want to go home."

He patted her hand indulgently.

"Alright, Lizzie. I'll take you home."

They exited the room under Ressler's withering gaze and Elizabeth felt sick all over again. She was extremely proud of herself for not letting it show, and for not having to lean on Red in order to make it to his car. She needed those little victories today.

The ride home was silent, and when Elizabeth made to get out of the vehicle, Red stopped her.

"Wait. I've got this."

He rounded the front of the car and pulled her door open for her. What a gentleman. Elizabeth smiled at this sweet little gesture and allowed him to walk her to her door.

"Are you sure you want to stay here by yourself?"

Elizabeth nodded.

"I'll be alright. I've got my gun back. And besides, I know you already have people following my every move, so my security detail is covered."

Red grinned sheepishly.

"True. But if you don't feel comfortable here, you can always come and stay with me."

He didn't have to tell her that. She already knew. She reached up and straightened his tie, which was probably only crooked because she passed out on him. He cleared his throat, distracting her from her task.

"Lizzie… I know you don't want to hear this from me or from anybody else for that matter, but given all the trouble you've been having lately, don't you think it's time you paid a visit to the doctor?"

Elizabeth frowned.

"I passed out once. I think I'll be okay."

Red rolled his eyes in frustration as she opened her door.

"You haven't been right in weeks. It's time you had someone look you over."

"Goodbye, Red."

"Goodbye, Lizzie. Think it over!"

Elizabeth shut the door behind her and sighed. She didn't know what was coming, but she knew this…she wasn't prepared for it.


	7. Chapter 7

Hey guys!

Thanks for the reviews!

This fic is going in a direction that I never really intended, but I'm going there anyway. XOXOXO!

That night found Elizabeth huddled over the toilet in her bathroom, praying that her entire stomach wouldn't make its way up her throat. She was lying on the bathroom floor, enjoying the cool tile when the brevity of the situation hit her. She had never been sick for more than a couple of days in her entire life, and this had been going on for weeks. It was terrifying. Maybe a visit to the doctor wouldn't be a horribly bad idea.

After a long, sleepless night, Elizabeth phoned into work and requested the day off, forgetting that she wasn't really welcome there anyway until things with Tom were resolved. Then she made a phone call to her family doctor and made a noon appointment. Elizabeth couldn't remember the last time she went to the doctor for anything except adoption physicals, and could barely remember the doctor's name to request an appointment with him.

Upon arriving at the doctor's office, she started to feel nervous. What if it was more than just stress? What if it was more serious than that? What if she was dying? What if she was foolishly overreacting like a complete moron? It was more than likely the latter. Foolish pretty much summed up how she had been feeling lately. If Sam could see just how badly she had screwed up with Tom… he would be so disappointed. Sam had always been so proud of her ability to look past people's outer shells and see them for what they truly were. It seemed as though that ability had left her.

"Elizabeth Keen?"

Elizabeth was jarred from her thoughts by a pretty young nurse calling her name out into the waiting room. She stood up and smiled at the nurse.

"Yes. I'm coming."

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The phone rang at six p.m. on the dot, and Elizabeth almost didn't answer it until she saw who was calling. Nick's Pizza. It crossed her mind that she was being completely ridiculous in keeping that silly code name. There was no one who was going to be looking at her phone now…

"Keen."

"I do wish you would get out of the habit of calling yourself that. It's a made up name for a made up person, and you, my dear, are very real."

Elizabeth sighed.

"Did you call me just to push my buttons, or is there something you wanted?"

It wouldn't have been a surprise if Red had called just to tease her. He did that often, and she had grown used to it. But he needed to lay off of her tonight.

"Dinner. I want dinner. More specifically, I want it at this great little Italian place that serves this fantastic lasagna with feta…"

"Sold. Pick me up in thirty minutes. I'm starving."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. She had shocked him. It had always taken some cajoling on his part to get her to do anything with him that didn't involve a blacklister, and here she was accepting a dinner invitation without hesitation. To be honest, she was just as shocked as he was.

"That was easier than I thought it was going to be. You're not up to anything, are you?"

Elizabeth could tell that Red was only half joking.

"No. Maybe I just needed the company tonight, that's all."

Red laughed.

"And I am excellent company, aren't I? I'll pick you up at six-thirty sharp."

And he did.

Elizabeth looked Red up and down when he arrived at her door and then looked down at herself. He was immaculate, and she… well she was wearing jeans and a button-up blouse.

"Tell me this place doesn't have a dress code."

He grinned.

"No. I imagine what you're wearing is just fine. I like the casual look."

Elizabeth grinned back.

"Well then you're going to love this. Take off the hat and the jacket and the tie. Oh, and the vest. The vest has got to go."

Confusion and amusement flashed momentarily across Red's face, but he removed the offending items and obligingly held them out to her.

"Glasses too?"

Elizabeth smiled as she sat Red's clothing on the table beside the front door.

"No. Keep the glasses. They go with the 'casual look'.

Red perched the glasses back on his nose and held his arms out to his side.

"Am I casual enough now?"

Never. He would never be as laid back as he could have been. Elizabeth considered him again and then reached for his sleeve, rolling it up his forearm. She gave the other sleeve the same treatment and then nodded her head.

"This will do."

If Red was offended that she was using him as her own dress-up doll, he never let it show. He offered her his arm and walked her to the car, as if he were still wearing the three piece suit.

Oh well. She tried.

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The restaurant wasn't that busy, and Red and Elizabeth were immediately seated in a booth in the back. Elizabeth wasn't surprised. Red liked his privacy, and she had a feeling that it was the seat he would have chosen even if he was not an internationally known criminal.

"I suggest the lasagna. I have a feeling that spaghetti is more your style, but trust me on this."

Red hadn't even picked up his menu. Elizabeth scanned through hers before deciding on the lasagna, ignoring the smirk that flitted across his face.

"Hi! My name is Carlie and I'll be your server tonight. Would you like for me to go over our specials before you order?"

The waitress was young and perky and, despite the fact that she generally despised young, perky people, Elizabeth liked her instantly. Plus…Carlie was such a pretty name for a girl…

"Carlie, I think the lady and I know what we want. I'll have the lasagna with a glass of red wine and she'll have the lasagna with…?"

Red looked questioningly at Elizabeth and she smiled up at Carlie.

"Water. I'll have water."

She waited for Red to contradict her and order her a cocktail anyway, but he kept his mouth shut and handed their menus to the waitress, who went to place their order. They looked at each other for a minute, both of them wanting to say something but neither one of them willing to start the conversation. Elizabeth sighed.

"Ask me."

Red shrugged innocently.

"Ask you what?"

"It's no secret that your 'security detail' is watching my every move, so why don't you just ask me what you brought me here to ask me?"

The jig was up. Red gave her a small smile as the waitress sat their drinks in front of them and walked away.

"How did your visit to the doctor go? I know you went this morning. I waited for your call. I don't know why I thought you would call, but I did. I'm not good at the waiting game, Lizzie. You have to tell me something."

Shame turned Elizabeth's face a bright shade of red. He had been so worried about her… and she blew him off. Well, he didn't have to worry about her anymore.

"I'm fine. In fact, I am in perfect health. I just need to watch my stress level and my diet."

Red's face broke into a wide smile.

"Excellent! Isn't is a relief to leave the doctor's office with a clean bill of health? This calls for a toast. To your health!"

Red raised his glass of wine and Elizabeth clinked her water glass merrily against it. She took a small sip of her water and Red frowned.

"You cannot have a proper toast with water. Here, have some of my wine."

He held the glass out to her expectantly, but she hesitated to take it. It struck her then how much her life was going to change. She couldn't even have a glass of wine with her meal. One fucking glass of wine. She shook her head violently and ran her fingers through the ends of her hair.

"I can't."

Red brought the wine back to his side of the table, looking slightly offended.

"If you don't want to drink after me that's fine. I can get you your own glass."

Elizabeth shook her head again.

"Red… I can't."

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, and she couldn't keep the tremor out of her voice. Red's eyes furrowed in concern before understanding dawned in his eyes.

"Oh Lizzie…"

"What am I going to do? I never intended for this to happen, ever. What am I going to tell this kid when he or she asks where their father is? What am I going to say?"

Red was beside her on the booth before the first shuddering sob escaped her body. She cried into his shoulder as he ran his fingers through her hair with one hand and dug a few bills out of his pocket with the other. He flung the bills on the table and gently began to ease her out of the booth.

"Lizzie, honey, look at me. You deserve to have this breakdown, and I'm going to let you have it, but we need to get you to the car first. Okay?"

Elizabeth nodded obediently and Red smiled at her indulgently. His lips brushed her forehead before he eased her out of the booth and out of the door.

The car ride back to her house consisted of Elizabeth riding in the backseat with Red, staining his expensive shirt with tears and mascara while Dembe played driver in the front seat, pretending not to be concerned with the drama that was going on behind his back. They arrived at her house and Red fished through her purse for the key, smiling sheepishly when he fumbled getting it into the lock. She wanted to thank him for being so patient with her, but something told her that he didn't want her thanks, so she simply smiled back at him as he led her through the door.

"I am so tired. I haven't been this exhausted in years."

Red took her jacket and purse from her and sat them with his clothing on the table by the front door.

"Hysteria will take a lot out of a person. Why don't you go upstairs and change, and I'll make you some tea."

He made for the kitchen before she could object. She trudged heavily up the stairs toward her bedroom, but the door to the guest bedroom caught her eye. She opened the door slowly and looked in. This was the room she would raise her baby in. Minutes passed as she stared at the room, trying to imagine a crib by the wall… a changing table under the window… a rocking chair in the corner… Fingers brushed her upper back and she sighed.

"I guess this is going to be the nursery after all."

Red stared into the room with her, as if trying to imagine all that she had been trying to imagine. He nodded his head assuredly.

"Might I suggest a soft yellow? At this juncture I think that a gender neutral color would be the smart way to go."

Elizabeth shrugged.

"Suggest whatever you want. But if you're going to pick the color, you're going to paint."

She was only joking, but Red nodded in agreement. She laughed shortly and laid her head on his shoulder briefly.

"I've got to get out of these clothes and into a bath. Meet you in the kitchen?"

Red nodded and Elizabeth disappeared into her bedroom, never knowing that long after she left, Red still stood in the doorway of the guest bedroom, imagining what the future could hold.


End file.
